Sunday’s SACMS concert, LYRIC IN TIME OF WAR, was not for the faint-hearted. Utilizing a format unfamiliar to many concert-goers, the American String Quartet wrapped their exquisite music around poetry by Tom Sleigh and Phil Klay’s narrative. A tribute to Veterans’ Day, the result was far from the “Don’t Sleep Under the Apple Tree” genre of music, miles away from the flag-waving parades and jolly speeches and continents away from familiar tributes to “the boys.” This concert was alternately beautiful, gut-wrenching, shocking and magnificent. How to do all that in an hour and a half?

It’s like a puzzle and it took some getting used to. Beginning with the Bach Prelude from the Well-Tempered Clavier and moving forward to Tom Sleigh’s poetry, the music was interwoven with the lyric narrative and the free verse, and the whole portrayed war with all its effects. Assembled finally at the last strand of Beethoven’s Quartet in F Minor, the pieces came together like shrapnel speeding backwards into the grenade. This was an experience of war as understood by composers, musicians and two writers, and the tone of profound sorrow and awe was conveyed to the audience.

This was an experience of war as understood by composers, musicians and two writers, and the tone of profound sorrow and awe was conveyed to the audience.

We’ve all been to concerts filled with beautiful, soulful music, but usually the experience evaporates after a while and two days later, we’d be hard-pressed to remember most of the selections performed. Not so with this concert. I for one did not drive home humming to the car radio, thinking ahead to dinner. I left this concert with the shadow of ordnance shells overhead, lives lost, the sounds of war, the pain of grief. The music so expertly performed by the American String Quartet so perfectly meshed with the poetry and narrative that it could have been composed for this very purpose. Was Bach or Bartok thinking of war when they heard this music in their minds? Perhaps not – but their music carries the emotional load expressed in the writing. And Shostakovich, in the unfamiliar Quartet No. 8 in C minor, was most certainly expressing the horrors rained down on Russia by Stalin. There was no mistaking the fear and anger he wove into his composition. Some of the music allowed pauses for contemplation – just as in war, there are silences during re-loading, I suppose – but the overwhelming purpose of the concert was to express what veterans experience and to help all of us appreciate their courage and the utter senselessness of war.

Our 76th season resumes January 27, 2019, with the exciting Cavatina Duo along with the world premiere of a composition by San Antonio’s own Matthew Dunne. Here’s a promise of more stellar music!

I am presently surrounded by all of my worldly possessions: everything from a grade school picture to my mother-in-law’s best crystal candleholders; every possible-sized pot and dishes from at least 3 sets; hair brushes of unknown provenance, pots full of defunct ballpoint pens, 4 oriental rugs of varying sizes, and one forlorn dwarf bamboo in a moldering pot. And that’s only what I can presently see! As I relocate from my home of 25 years to an apartment (which I thought was spacious), I have learned some valuable lessons which I will impart to you.

Lesson 1:

The three most dreaded words in the English language are, “Have you seen…” followed closely by “Where is the…” and “It’s here somewhere.”

Lesson 2:

You know you’re getting old when you need more space for your medicine collection than for your makeup (and note that all your makeup, which has been hidden away for years, begins with some variant of “anti-aging”).

Lesson 3:

If you say to yourself, “Where did this ever come from?” or “Is this mine?” toss it! If you haven’t seen/used it in memory, you don’t need it.

Lesson 4:

If you and your significant other are still on speaking terms after a couple of weeks of this, you’re good for all eternity – or at least until one or the other of you walks out in disgust.

Lesson 5:

Keys. If you have any idea of what all these keys you’ve accumulated over the years unlock, you’re a better person than I. Corollary: put tags on all keys while you still have some idea, albeit vague, of what they go to. Another corollary: do you know how hard it is to throw away a key? What if…?

Lesson 6:

Carefully label all boxes as they are packed. That way, you’ll have a perfectly good reason to burst into tears when, unpacking, you find your good silverware at the bottom of a box of coat hangers.

Lesson 7:

When you just can’t take the sight of clutter as far as the eye can see, when your beautiful, light-filled apartment is pitch black because there are boxes stacked against the windows, when you find one more piece of something you know goes with something else but you can’t remember what and you don’t dare throw it away because you know that sooner or later you’ll find what it goes to, when it’s all just too much – well, it’s time to find a wine glass and a bottle of good wine, put the classical guitar music on and just try not to think about it for a while. It will still be there when you’ve finished the wine, but you just won’t care.

I feel like a coral reef without the pretty fish! Layers upon layers of boxes, paintings, pitchers and pictures, lamps and lamp shades, international things that I’m sure caught my eye in Bolivia or Beijing, Egypt or Copenhagen – what is it and why do I have it? Or does it have me?

How did all this stuff accrete to me? I feel like a coral reef without the pretty fish! Layers upon layers of boxes, paintings, pitchers and pictures, lamps and lamp shades, international things that I’m sure caught my eye in Bolivia or Beijing, Egypt or Copenhagen – what is it and why do I have it? Or does it have me? I look enviously at refugees, carrying all their worldly possessions in bundles and, while I don’t wish to be in their number, I respect their ability to put all of their really important possessions in a sheet or serape, bring the corners together in a knot and sling everything over their shoulders.

I did miss one very important lesson: if you can find some clean clothes somewhere, put them on and come to a concert. November 11th, the American String Quartet along with Tom Sleigh and Phil Klay will be performing at our regular venue, Temple Beth-El, at our regular time 3:15. You can come inside, shut off the clutter and confusion for a couple of hours and just relax, re-lax. It will all be there when you get back, but I am a believer in escape, no matter how transitory. And if you see someone with a serape full of possessions over her shoulder, well that will be yours truly.

This will come as a shock to you, but brace yourself. I think Dawn Upshaw cheats! She makes the incredibly complicated seem effortless, the atonal sound melodic and the enormous range of her voice seem expected, controlled and crystalline. Now you tell me: how does anyone do that? Maybe she is super-human; I don’t know, but I do know quality and perfection when I hear it, and I heard it Sunday at the first concert of the San Antonio Chamber Music Society’s 2018-19 season.

Of course, it helps to share a program with the Brentano String Quartet. These masterful musicians performed – among other selections – a work by one of my personal favorites, Franz Josef Haydn. The thing about Haydn is that his music in the wrong hands can sound tinkly (is that a word?) and tinny and metronomic. I should know. When I was but seven, I was already destined to be a concert pianist, and what do aspiring concert pianists perform (to the beat of a metronome, of course)? Haydn, that’s what. But as time went on and my piano career came to a screeching halt in high school, I came to understand and appreciate the works of Haydn. And I have often thought, as I did Sunday, that if Haydn himself could have listened to the Brentano performing his work, taking full measure of the imagination, the humor inherent in his String Quartet in C, he would smile. In fact, he would clap his hands in glee as the Brentano brought this beautiful composition to life once again.

…so I adjusted my inner ear and resolved to understand and enjoy… I never thought I would have goosebumps! …the quality of the performance made it irresistible!

Something else I would like to ponder: the Respighi composition. Respighi is well known for his tone poems; he brings such wonderful sights to mind as the listener enjoys the range of his music. Il tramonto (The Sunset) as performed by the Brentano and Dawn Upshaw was a vision of the majesty of a sunset, captured forever in this composition.

And now for the Schoenberg. I wasn’t too sure I would enjoy this composition as I am not an ardent admirer of the composer. I’d have to say I’m kind of hot and cold on his work; it’s a mindset, I guess, and also what you bring to it. Well, I brought an admiration for the performers, so I adjusted my inner ear and resolved to understand and enjoy. I never thought I would have goosebumps! Shoenberg and thrills just don’t go together for me in the usual course of events, but the quality of the performance made it irresistible. So goosebumps it is.

Our 76th Star-Studded Season is here! Be prepared to be dazzled on this new adventure: you will be amazed, intrigued, challenged, transported, charmed, moved, and uplifted! With each passing season, the performances get better and better. You won’t want to miss any of the fantastic concerts starting this October. Take a look at our stellar line up below and buy your season tickets now!

Brentano String Quartet with Dawn Upshaw

October 7, 2018

The exceptional and critically acclaimed Brentano Quartet, known for its adventurous spirit and imaginative programming, will collaborate with 5-time Grammy Award winner and beloved American soprano Dawn Upshaw, who will lend her incomparable voice to bring you a Sunday feast that probes the depths of human expression.

American String Quartet with Tom Sleigh & Phil Klay

November 11, 2018

The American String Quartet is internationally recognized as one of the world’s finest quartets. Tom Sleigh is the author of ten books of poetry, including the award-winning Army Cats. Phil Klay is a veteran of the U.S. Marine Corps and is the author of an award-winning New York Times-bestselling short story collection.

Music expresses what words cannot, but in addressing the issues of war and healing, these artists will combine the powers of both in this special Veterans Day concert, titled ‘Lyric in Time of War’.

Cavatina Duo

January 27, 2019

Dedicated soloists and chamber musicians, the Cavatina Duo breaks convention with their combination of instruments. Add to that their daring choices of varied and versatile repertoire, and the result is new sounds, colors and musical phrasings, which in return awakens a high level of emotion and audience response. These consummate artists will give the world premier of a special commission work by San Antonio composer Matthew Dunne in memory of the late San Antonio Symphony Principal Flute Tal Perkes.

Eighth Blackbird

March 10, 2019

Eighth Blackbird is “one of the smartest, most dynamic contemporary classical ensembles on the planet” (Chicago Tribune). Launched by six entrepreneurial Oberlin Conservatory undergraduates in 1996, this Chicago-based super-group has earned its status as “a brand-name… defined by adventure, vibrancy and quality… known for performing from memory, employing choreography and collaborations with theater artists, lighting designers and even puppetry artists” (Detroit Free Press).

David Finckel, Wu Han & Philip Setzer

April 28, 2019

Called the ‘power couple of chamber music’ by the Wall Street Journal, David Finckel and Wu Han rank among the most dynamic of today’s classical artists. They are joined here by Emerson String Quartet founder, Philip Setzer, for an extraordinary collaboration that will both dazzle as well as mesmerize. Come witness chamber music playing at its best.

Get Your Season Subscription Today!!!

A complete Season is only $100 (Seniors $75) and includes a Bonus Ticket for a friend! Plus: any ticket may be used for any concert of your choice! This is the best deal in town!

I know when summer’s about played out when the “end of season” catalogues begin stuffing my mailbox. “Seventy percent reduction,” they scream. All the wonderful merchandise the shop couldn’t peddle during spring and summer (and some left over from last summer’s sales). There’s that suit I craved when I first laid eyes on it in the spring catalogue. “New for summer!” the headline blared. “Cool, well-styled, just the outfit for office-to-evening,” they promised. But, oh boy, it wasn’t cheap. Now it’s the perfect “transitional” suit – whatever that means – and the price is half what it was in the spring catalogues. I’m not biting. I’ve gotten this far without it; what’s a couple of months more.

Another catalogue that arrived yesterday was filled with merchandise for Halloween and, yes, Thanksgiving.

Another catalogue that arrived yesterday was filled with merchandise for Halloween and, yes, Thanksgiving. Oh, pul-eeze!! I’m sure the next one will be touting Christmas wares. Can’t we just enjoy the waning and still beach-worthy days of August without the constant reminders that time is marching on? I don’t know if I’ll even survive until Thanksgiving, let alone decorate my Thanksgiving table with themed placemats, napkins and centerpieces. Ugh!

In the interests of complete disclosure and truthfulness, I used to write advertising copy for a long-gone department store (remember those?). The challenge was to grab the attention of the newspaper reader (SALE! In 36 point letters would usually accomplish that) and then to convince them that this was an item he or she had to have. Oh, and everything had to fit in the space allocated by the evil layout designer, Helen. I still have my well-worn and thumbed through Roget’s Thesaurus. How many ways can you say “exquisite”?

And while I’m confessing my sins, I might as well tell you that I voraciously read out of town stores’ ads, magazine copy and even catalogues for bits and pieces I could use. My boss thought I was a creative genius. If only she knew….

I recognize the challenges faced by a catalogue copywriter and, really, I sympathize.

So I recognize the challenges faced by a catalogue copywriter and, really, I sympathize. But just as it was hard for me to gin up enthusiasm for Christmas copy in September, it must be murder for these poor hacks to rhapsodize over fall fashion sometime in April to make their mid-summer deadlines. If you’ve just walked two or three blocks to your cubbyhole (copywriters don’t get real offices) in the blazing heat of July, it’s darn nigh impossible to switch your gears to contemplate the wools of November. To write about ski gear in August, swimsuits in January and, gag, Christmas wreaths in September takes a very special kind of crazy. I know.

Check your personal stack of newly-arrived catalogues, though. Lurking amid all those incredible bargains and must-have merchandise, I hope you’ll find one that reads (in 18 point), “2018/19: A Stellar Season.” That’s doesn’t qualify as a “screamer,” as we say in the trade, but I hope it speaks to you. That’s the season offering of the San Antonio Chamber Music Society and the subscription form.

Lurking amid all those incredible bargains and must-have merchandise, I hope you’ll find one that reads (in 18 point), “2018/19: A Stellar Season.”

If you have to say goodbye to summer, what better way than starting off the concert season with the Brentano String Quartet plus soprano Dawn Upshaw on October 7? “Glittering clarity” is how The Strad described their music. Man! I wish I’d written that phrase!

The season gets better and better and, really, you won’t want to miss one concert. Just look:

Reverting to my copywriting days –Only $100 will buy a season ticket PLUS 1 bonus ticket that can be used at any concert!!! AND any ticket may be used for any of the 5 concerts!!! And students and active-duty military attend our concerts FREE!

Just call 210-408-1558 to reserve your season ticket or order online. I will recognize you, you know: you’ll be the one in the “transitional” outfit, right?

Don’t you just love it when a dignified, serious person makes a blunder? Com’on. Admit it. I mean as long as it’s not your surgeon who is doing some local-anesthesia work on your person. “Oops,” is the last word – possibly literally – you’ll want to hear. But nothing so dramatic here. I’m talking about dignified, professional, serious musicians. I collect these anecdotes and imagine others, so allow me to open my treasure chest of oops moments.

First, there’s the trumpet player. He’s doing wonderful things, finding tones, hitting every note with clarity and verve and then – wait for it – his mute gets away from him and goes rolling gleefully across the stage for all the world to see. Yes, there’ll be a few titters and giggles from the audience, but the musician, like the true professional he is, simply walks over and picks the damn thing up and carries on. Now that’s class.

And there’s not a cellist alive who hasn’t had a string break in the middle of a concert. Of course, if it’s one of the bass strings and goes ka-blooey, it can remove his glasses, scratch his face and cause a really awful moment. He can’t just carry on. He’ll just have to sit there or try to play on three strings or just forget the whole thing and walk off to find a replacement string.

…there’s not a cellist alive who hasn’t had a string break in the middle of a concert.

But here’s my own recurring nightmare: I’m a timpanist in a big, important orchestra with a grand and renowned conductor. Not permitted to thump the kettle drums or even rat-a-tat the snare, I am given the lowly triangle and told, sternly, to follow the music very carefully. This I diligently do. So there I am, standing up with my triangle shining elegantly in my left hand and my little wand in my right, counting carefully for my big moment. And I’m off by one beat. I’m off by one beat. It can’t be. I’m off by ONE lousy beat. And everybody, I mean everybody knows. The grand and renowned conductor shoots me a look that would knock a pigeon off an electric line and the timpanist standing next to me gently removes the elegant triangle from my hand so that I can do no further damage and I sit down and try to make myself as small as possible. It could have been worse, I guess: I could have dropped the triangle right into the horn in front of me. It could have been worse. It could have happened, and I’m just the person it would have happened to.

Of course, I am not a timpanist and I’ve never even been close to a triangle, but I was sufficiently musically embarrassed in my misspent youth to convince myself that I should find a career other than music performance. I was a member of a folk group – remember those? I know I’m dating myself, but really, it was a lot of fun. I was also working at a local television station, writing what is called “continuity.” That’s all the stuff that’s thrown in so that there is no dreaded “dead air.” Anyway, the lady who was host of the daytime show invited me to sing on her show, demonstrating the desperation daytime hosts feel when trying to fill a time slot. So, with my trusty Nuevo Laredo guitar in hand, I sat before the camera and launched into a piece I had done a million times. You may remember it, if you’re old enough: “In the jungle, the quiet jungle, the lion sleeps tonight…” Well, the lyrics were pretty simple, the melody straightforward and I was on cruise control. Until I got to the end and the song (and Peter, Paul and Mary, if memory serves), launch into “Wee-mo-way, wee-mo-way.” So I launched into “Wee-mo-way,” but I couldn’t get un-launched. Panic set in. How am I going to end this? What comes next? So I tried to just kind of let my wobbly voice drift off into the void and bowed my head. It was a brief career, but brilliant.

I was sufficiently musically embarrassed in my misspent youth to convince myself that I should find a career other than music performance.

I have a friend who’s a clarinetist and had a reed break in the middle of Cole Porter. Of course, he had another reed, but there in front of the whole world had to extract it from his pocket, run it through his mouth a time or two and then install it in the clarinet. Maybe no one noticed, but I’ll bet they did.

I don’t think there’s a musician alive who hasn’t had an “oops” moment, and maybe they can laugh about them, but I’m certain that – just like my wee-mo-way moment – they’ve never forgotten them.